


The Nightmare

by OpheliaGlorfindal



Series: Taking Moments of Happiness [2]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Angst, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst and Porn, Blood and Gore, Blood and Violence, Comfort/Angst, Cullavellan - Freeform, Cullen Rutherford Smut, Cullen Smut, Cullenlingus (Dragon Age), Cunnilingus, Dreams and Nightmares, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Smut, Nightmares, Romance, Shameless Smut, Smut, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-13
Updated: 2019-05-13
Packaged: 2020-03-02 19:37:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,719
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18817627
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OpheliaGlorfindal/pseuds/OpheliaGlorfindal
Summary: “Triss,” Cullen said as he took a few steps closer to her, “I can’t imagine —”“— Do you know what it feels like to have all your deepest fears wrenched out of your head and presented to you in every horrifying detail?” she asked him, feeling the tears beginning to well behind her eyes, “It’s devastating.”Unable to sleep without reliving the horrors of the Nightmare demon, Triss confides in Cullen and clears a few things up about their relationship.





	The Nightmare

**Author's Note:**

> Basically, it's my version of *that* desk scene from Inquisition and takes place some time after Here Lies the Abyss.  
> The idea spawned from a Reddit thread about what the Nightmare Demon would taunt the Inquisitor with...so here is the result.
> 
> NSFW as smut inevitably ensues.

_Snow._

_Triss felt something cold and wet land on her face and it was snow. She opened her eyes and found herself staring up at the icy blue sky, the biting coldness seeping through her clothes and into her bones. She groaned. Why was she lying on the ground? More to the point, where was she?_

_“What the —” Triss muttered as she pulled herself onto her feet,her arms and legs aching deeply._

_Haven. She was standing in Haven. Well, what was left of it. Triss felt her breath tighten as she looked around. The wooden huts had become nothing but rotting piles of wood, not even fit for kindling. The chantry was nothing but broken walls, its bricks crumbling into the snow. She walked around, the snow biting her bare feet. Everything was silent. There was no birdsong or the sound of tree rustling in the wind._

_She stopped dead. The blood in her veins ran cold. She was surrounded by dead bodies. The bodies of her clan were strewn about in front of her. Feeling the bile rise in her throat, she knelt down next to the body of Keeper Deshanna, her face was covered in blood from where her skull had been smashed in. Triss muttered a prayer to Falon’Din as she closed the old woman’s glassy eyes._

_“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” she cried as she stood up, “But this — this didn’t happen, this didn’t —”_

_Triss began to run. Her body flooding with panic. She was desperate -- desperate for someone, anyone to still be alive. But all she saw were the corpses of her clan strewn about the village, their entrails spilling out onto the blood stained snow. Her body was shaking. These were people she knew, people she had grown up with. They were her family. But they were gone._

_They were gone and she was alone. They were gone and it was all her fault. She should have been there, she should have done more to protect them…_

_She wandered along the path to the chantry, her heart thumping wildly against her ribs. Her stomach had tied itself in knots. The bodies of her companions were scattered amongst the debris of ruined buildings. She found Dorian slumped against what was left of the tavern, intestines hanging out of a large gash in his abdomen. His hand was still reaching out for Iron Bull, who was lying mere inches away in the snow, practically cut in two._

_No. No, this couldn’t be happening. This couldn’t be real, could it? She asked herself as dread began to creep through her veins like a poison. She had reached the doors of the chantry and found Vivienne’s arm poking out from underneath a pile of rubble. Blackwall was almost unrecognisable, his body charred and burnt from a fireball. Triss retched as she saw Cassandra and Varric lying on the chantry steps, their bodies peppered with arrows._

_“Do you see what you have done, Triss?” the voice of the nightmare demon whispered in her ear, “These people died for you and for what? For you to leave them in their hour of need?”_

_“No!” Triss cried, “That’s not what happened — I —”_

_“Tell me, how many more will you send to their deaths? How many more will die until you’re through?”_

_Triss ignored him as she pushed the chantry doors open with her trembling hands. The acrid smell of smoke and blood filled the air. The bodies of the Inquisition's soldiers littered the floor of the chantry, every one of them had died in a last ditch attempt to defend their cause. Her cause._

_“Take a look at what you’ve done,” the voice of the nightmare demon returned, “Betrayed the people who believed in you. You’re nothing but a fraud, a charleton and a thief.”_

_“Shut up!” Triss yelled as she stepped over the dead bodies, “Shut up! Shut up!”_

_“This is all your doing, Triss. You’ve lied to everyone, made them believe in a cause that doesn’t exist. You failed to protect them, even the man you love.”_

_Triss’ heard her blood pumping in her ears. Her eyes scanned the area, desperately searching for a head of blond curly hair. No, Cullen wasn’t — he couldn’t be, could he? She froze. Her heart stopped as she found him, lying on the floor; his body twisted at an odd angle. Something icy cold washed over her, coursing through her body as she ran to him._

_“No, no, no,” she sobbed as she dropped to her knees beside him, “No, please.”_

_Triss’ eyes widened in terror as she looked at Cullen’s face, his skin was a sickening shade of pale blue, his eyes were staring sightlessly up at the ceiling. Her gaze travelled down his body, his torso was covered in blood and his limbs were bent at awkward angles. She hugged him to her, craving the comforting warmth that usually emanated from him. But he was cold. A blood curdling cry wracked through her body. He was the only one who could love her when she couldn’t love herself. He was gone._

_They were all gone and she was alone. They were all gone and it was all her fault…_

Triss woke up to find herself drenched in sweat. Her bed sheets were in complete disarray. She stared, wild-eyed, at her ceiling for a few moments, trying to catch her breath. She sat up, the stone floor was cold against her feet. She slid out of bed, the cool air brushing against her face, bringing her back into reality. She shivered as she shuffled over to the basin on her dresser. 

That dream… it had felt so real. Every single detail of it was perfectly imprinted into her memory. She splashed some cold water over her face, trying to get rid of the dark horrifying feeling that had settled into the very bones of her body. It had been a week since Adamant — since her second trip through the Fade and she had haunted by the same damn nightmare every night. 

A shiver ran down her spine. Cullen. The image of him lying lifeless in her arms with the warm light in his eyes gone. The mere thought of it made her stomach churn. 

“It didn’t happen,” she reminded herself as she reached for a towel to dry her face, “It didn’t happen. Cullen is here, happy and healthy and alive.”

These were the words that she repeated to herself every night. A mantra to reassure herself and silence her growing anxieties before they overwhelmed her. But there was something, something different about this night. A feeling of dread that had crept up behind her and whispered insecurities into her ear like a twisted lover. Triss bit her lip, hovering in a moment of indecision for a few seconds.

No. It was time. It was well past the time. He had to know.

Before she could convince herself otherwise, Triss bolted out of her room and through the deserted main hall of Skyhold. She cursed under her breath as she reached the courtyard, the frozen ground stinging the soles of her feet. She ran down the steps and passed the closed merchant stalls, ignoring the cramp in her side. She shivered as she ran up the stairs, her footsteps were so light that they didn’t make a sound. The cool mountain wind bit at her skin as she sprinted along the battlements and she was reminded of nights spent sleeping in the forest, curled up under bear skin blankets. A memory of a home that she no longer belonged to. 

Triss halted as she reached the door to Cullen’s office, catching her breath for a few moments. Feelings of doubt began to return and she felt foolish for suddenly standing outside Cullen’s office in the dead of night. Maybe she should go back to bed. This was a stupid idea. At best Cullen would be annoyed at her for disturbing him and at worst — at worst…

At worst, he would change his mind. She was a mage after all, a walking reminder of his experiences at Kinloch Hold. Had she left it too late? There was still too much that was uncertain about them after all. What if she didn’t live up to his expectations? What if he had changed his mind? What if...what if...what if…

Stop it. She was spiraling and she knew it. Dorian had spent weeks telling her about this — about how she needed to stop letting her insecurities control her if she wanted things to change. It was too late now. She had taken decisive action and she needed to see it through. She took a deep breath, steeling herself for a few seconds and knocked on the door. 

She heard the scraping of a chair and the muffled sound of heavy footsteps against a stone floor. The door opened with a wooden creak to reveal a very haggard looking Cullen. His eyes widened when he saw Triss, a smile flickering on his face. 

“Maker’s breath! Triss —” he said, running a hand through his hair, “What are you doing here? At this hour?”

Triss bit her lip and tucked her hair behind her ear.

“I—I couldn’t sleep.”

He opened the door and the rush of warm air greeted her as she stepped into his office. Cullen closed the door and stared at her.

“Inquis—Triss, is there something you wanted to talk about?” he asked her, concern etched on his face.

Triss leaned against his desk, wringing her hands. She dipped her head for a few moments, hiding her face behind her chestnut hair. She let the silence fall for a few moments as she took a few breaths.

“I-I’ve been having nightmares,” she told him, surprised to hear that her voice was shaking, “Every night, since — since—”

“— Adamant?” Cullen grimaced. 

Triss nodded, casting a glance up at him. His brown eyes had a haunted look, as though remembering how she had fell out of the sky and into a rift. Another fear made real. Another addition to the ever increasing list of fears that plagued him constantly. 

“I keep dreaming of Haven,” she whispered, “I keep hearing his voice... reminding me of all the people we lost that night. Of all the people who died in my name and of all the people who will die before this is over.”

“Triss,” Cullen said as he took a few steps closer to her, “I can’t imagine —”

“— Do you know what it feels like to have all your deepest fears wrenched out of your head and presented to you in every horrifying detail?” she asked him, feeling the tears beginning to well behind her eyes, “It’s devastating.”

She paused for a few moments, her heart was hammering against her ribs so hard that she was sure that Cullen could hear it. Her thoughts were racing, speeding around her head before she had the chance to catch them and say them aloud. She stared at the floor, wiping her eyes. Cullen held her hands in his, the roughness of his calloused fingers entwined with her own was a comfort. Triss sniffled and took a few deep shuddering breaths.

“But the thing is, the worst thing about being in trapped in the fade wasn’t reliving Haven,” she told him, squeezing his hands a little, “It was the fact that the whole time, I was thinking of you, praying that you were safe.”

“You shouldn’t be worrying about me.”

Triss looked up at him, her eyes staring straight into his honey coloured ones and shook her head.

“I can’t help it, Cullen,” she murmured, “You’re my future. I need you alive if I want to spend it with you.”

Cullen’s eyes widened, something — realisation perhaps — had sparked in them.His face shone in hope.

“Triss, Are you — did you just say —”

Triss gave a little chuckle as she nodded, bringing his hands to her lips and kissing his knuckles.

“I was planning on saying something a little more eloquent,” she told him, feeling a smile bloom on her face as she rested her forehead against his. Her heart fluttering in her chest like a fragile butterfly.

“Are you sure?” he asked her, brushing her hair behind her ear with his hand, “Y-you want me?”

“If you’ll have me.”

His fingers clenched her hair and he kissed her, hard and forceful. Triss gripped the desk with her hands, taken by surprise. He had never kissed her like that before, with such passion and conviction. She returned the kiss, nipping his bottom lip gently. He pulled her closer, one strong arm snaked around her waist. But it wasn’t close enough, she wanted to feel him. All of him. Her fingers bunched the cotton fabric of his tunic. She tugged at the hem, trying to pull the garment off him.

“Triss,” he gasped, breath catching in his throat as they broke the kiss, “A-Are you sure you want to do this?”

She nodded, tugging his tunic over his head a discarding it somewhere behind her. She ran her hands over his chest, fingers tracing his scars. His lips went to her neck, nuzzling and biting her as his hands squeezed her breasts gently. She let out a breathy moan, her fingernails scraping his scalp. She shuffled backwards onto the desk, sending a stack of reports falling to the floor. She felt her heart beating wildly as she slipped out of her tunic, tossing it onto the floor. She needed to him to be closer to her, she needed to feel the heat of his skin against hers. 

“Maker’s breath,” he breathed as his eyes roamed over her exposed skin, “What did I do to deserve you?”

Triss couldn’t help but smile at his words. She had never seen him like this, hungry and in such disarray. His lips were swollen and his pupils were wide. The way he was looking at her with such wanton need was enough to make her wetter than she was already. Cullen ran his hands down her sides, his calloused fingertips sending a shiver down her spine. 

“Cullen —” she whispered as he unlaced her breeches and slid them down her legs, “Touch me, please.”

He gave her a devious little smile as he slid his hand to the apex of her thighs. Triss whimpered as his finger found her clit, drawing painfully slow circles around it. She ground her hips, trying to ease some of the pressure that was building up between her legs. She bit his shoulder as he teased her, running a finger up and down her labia before sinking it into her entrance. She gasped, her fingernails digging into the nape of his neck as he began to pump his fingers in and out of her. 

“Creators, Cullen,” she mewled as he removed his fingers. She looked at him in bewilderment as he knelt down, slinging her legs over his shoulders and added, “Wait, what are you — fenedhis!”

Pleasure sparked all over her body as Cullen circled her clitoris with his tongue and started to finger her again. She let out a moan, her hands scrabbling to grab hold of something. It was better than she had ever imagined. She clutched the back of his head with her hand, fingers clenching his blond curls tightly as the pressure started to build up. She cried out as he sucked on the sensitive bundle of nerves and increased the pace of his fingers. She lay backwards on the desk, her nerves standing on end. She was an utter mess, her body writhing under Cullen’s ministrations. 

“Please, Cullen,” she begged, “Please — I need —”

Cullen looked up at her as he stood up, his fingers tracing languid circles around her entrance. He was smirking at her, his eyes feasting on the curves of her body. 

“What is it, Triss?” he whispered, causing the back of her neck to tingle.

Triss squirmed as Cullen continued to pump his fingers in and out of her pussy, pushing her agonisingly close to her climax.

“I-I want you,” she breathed, “Creators, I want all of you.”

Cullen’s eyes widened at her admission. She gasped as he pulled away, suddenly feeling empty and missing the feel of his fingers inside her. She propped herself up onto her elbows, watching him as he fumbled with the laces of his breeches and pulled them down. His erection bounced slightly, freed from the confines of the garment. It was larger than she imagined. He caught her staring, and rubbed the back of his neck.

“Triss, are you all right?” he asked, biting his lip.

“Yeah, just — just admiring the view, is all.”

Cullen chuckled as he made his way towards her. She lay backwards as he climbed onto the desk, covering her with his body. She felt his heat radiating from his skin as he caught her lips in a kiss, one hand sliding down her side and wrapping her legs around his waist. His other hand clasped hers as he entered her, causing her breath to catch. 

This was — this was everything. He was all she ever wanted. She had played this encounter out so many times in her head, waiting for the right time to initiate it. But the reality was far better than anything she could dream up. He was gentle, the solidness of his body was the only thing gripping her to her surroundings as he thrusted into her, setting her body aflame with pleasure. Triss held him close, her fingernails raking his back as he groaned softly in her ear, his stubble grazing her cheek. The room filled with wanton moans as he bit her neck and she undulated underneath him, desperate to relieve the arousal that had taken over her body. 

Triss groaned as she buried her face into the crook of his neck. She breathed him in, the heady scent of patchouli and leather making her head spin. She bit into his shoulder as he increased the pace of his thrusts, tasting the salty sweat on his skin. He was held her close to him, her nipples brushing against his chest as he clutched at her. She was utterly lost in him that she forgot herself — nothing mattered except for the weight of his body against hers and the safety of their embrace. Here she could be herself — Triss, not the Inquisitor or the Herald of Andraste. She was just a young woman fucking her lover — slowly unravelling around his cock. 

She felt bright white lights dance across her eyelids as her climax burned its way through her body like a forest fire. She cried out his name as she came undone, her fingernails biting into his skin as she rode out her high. Cullen followed soon after, his cock convulsing as he came inside her. He held still for a few moments, holding her tight. He was looking down at her, flushed and hazy-eyed.

“Maker’s breath,” he whispered, brushing her cheek with his hand, “Triss —”

“— Cullen, I love you,” she told him, blurting out the words before she could stop herself.

“And I you,” he told her, giving her a tender kiss and resting his forehead against hers. He tucked a few stray hairs behind her ear, before adding, “Would you — would you like to stay with me?”

Triss nodded and Cullen beamed at her as he slid out of her and climbed off the desk. She shivered, missing the warmth of his body against hers. She sat up and watched as he picked her tunic off the floor and tossed it to her. She shrugged it over her head and watched as Cullen laced up his breeches, admiring how dishevelled he looked. His blond hair was tousled, curls completely out of place, and his forehead was still shining with sweat. She smirked, getting a sense of satisfaction for the fact that she was responsible for his current state of disarray. 

Cullen picked up the rest of their clothes and walked towards the ladder to his bedroom. He turned around and gave her an inquisitive look.

“What is it?” he asked.

“Nothing,” she replied, chuckling, “I just can’t believe that you’re going to bed without picking up all the reports that fell off the desk. Who are you and what have you done with my Commander?”

He rubbed the back of his neck.

“I’m sorry,” he told her, “When I imagined us — there was a bed and not a desk—”

Triss slid off the desk and walked over to him. She stood on her tiptoes and placed her fingers on the back of his neck.

“It was perfect,” she said, kissing him on the cheek.

Cullen kissed her forehead and hugged her close for a brief second before letting her go. He started climbing the ladder. Triss followed after him, taking his hand as she reached the top. She looked around his room, it was typically Cullen. There were no signs of clutter, save for a few books neatly stacked on his bedside table. She smiled, his bed was made, the blankets tucked neatly over the corners of the mattress. A habit he probably picked up during his time as a Templar, she supposed. Cullen was watching her as she took in his sleeping quarters, rubbing the back of his neck.

“You know, we could get someone to fix that,” she said, gesturing to the hole in the roof.

Cullen shook his head.

“To be honest, I like it,” he admitted, “There’s something comforting about looking at the sky before I fall asleep.”

Triss smiled. In truth, she could relate. She had grown up falling asleep underneath the night sky, that she hadn’t realised how much she had taken it for granted until she was given her own quarters. Even now, she found she couldn’t sleep without leaving her balcony doors open. She crawled into the bed and pulled the blankets over her, enveloping herself in the intoxicating scent of her lover. Cullen joined her, wrapping his arms around her and pulling her close.

Triss curled up and snuggled into the blankets, enjoying the warmth of Cullen’s body pressed up against hers. For the first time in months, she fell asleep feeling safe and utterly contented.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading. As always, comments and feedback are welcome. :)


End file.
